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O fate, help me, said Adam Bell,
And Clime of the Clough so free,
Would we were in merry Carlisle,
Before that fair menzie.
Then they sat down, and made good cheer,
And eat and drank full well:
Here's a fit of these bold yeoman,
Another I will you tell.
As they sat in the English wood,
Under ths trusty tree,
They thought they heard a woman weeping
But her they could not see.
Sore then sighed the fair Alice,
That e'er I saw this day;
For now is my dear husband slain,
Alas! and well-a-day.
Might I have spoke with his brethren,
Or either of the twain,
To let them know what him befel,
My heart were out of pain.
Cloudeslie walk'd a little aside,
Look'd under the green wood linn,
He saw his wife and children three,
Full woe in heart and mind,
Welcome, my dear wife, said William,
Under this trusty tree,
I too thought yesterday, by St. John,
Thou should’st me never see.
I'm well, she says, that you be here,
